Maureen Bush's Blog, page 3

Fueled By Hope

Mark and I have started a new project. We’re trying to figure out what getting to zero carbon would look like at our house. We’ll tackle a project a month. Our first blog post went up today.

Maureen

https://fueledbyhopeblog.wordpress.co...

Working Magic

I finished a story before Christmas, and had my first reader comments. I feel like I’m working incredibly slowly, over the last year, as I’ve dealt with health and family issues – and yet here it is – a competed manuscript, a product pulled out of thin air, from my imagination into a story.

There’s an alchemy there that never ceases to thrill  - to play with an idea and then slowly, painfully, turn it into a story.

I feel like a magician, working magic.

Maureen

 

 

Solitary Bird

 

A post in a post in a post

For the first time ever, I’m linking to another blog post, because I think it’s really important.

Human beings need to move. As our lives become more and more sedentary (like for for us bum-in-chair writers), our bodies suffer. The writer Sarah Selecky posted about Katy Bowman’s book, Move Your DNA. Following her post is a blog from Katy herself, on how she keeps her body moving through a writing day. Here’s the link:

http://www.sarahselecky.com/2015/be-a-writer-who-moves-a-mover-who-writes/

I have a standing desk with a treadmill. Right now I’m standing at the kitchen counter writing on my laptop. But I can’t take much credit for this. Most of my writing time lately is curled up on the sofa with my lap top in my lap. Clearly it’s time for new habits.

Maureen

A Room of My Own

I cleaned my office. I mean, I really cleaned my office.

First, I kicked out my husband. He was laid off/retired (it came with a package, so it’s all good), and there’s no way I can write and share an office during the day. So he’s taken over our older daughter who’s in grad school at McGill’s room, and I have a room to myself.

Once his stuff was gone, I couldn’t blame him for all the junk, so I started digging through my own debris. Somehow I’ve been in the perfect headspace for serious decluttering. The more I dug, the deeper I wanted to go. I sorted and tossed and gave away. I went through every file drawer, every drawer of pens and notebooks, every shelf. Finally, after all the thinning and sorting and throwing out, I was left with all the crap on the desk. Damn.

Then I had a brain storm for how to store what needs to be there, went to Staples, found an even better solution – and ta da – for the Staples Easy button win – my desk is clear. I mean – it’s clear – except for a small collection of items in the corner.  Instead of three piles of papers breeding into four or five and then moving onto the floor, there are no piles of paper on my desk. There are folders in a holder that also holds my pens and some small items. My current writing projects are neatly stacked nearby. The rest is in my file cabinet.

It’s kind of freaky. Anyone who believes clutter leads to creativity will be horrified. But oh – it’s lovely. It’s lovely lovely lovely. Every time I walk into the room I want to sit down and write. It’s warm and welcoming and playful. I still have a too-long to-do list, but it’s in a folder with all the relevant papers, so I can ignore it until it screams at me and then find everything I need.

Now I write. For the first time ever, I’m going to try an unofficial NANOWRIMO (that’s National Novel Writing Month sit down and blast out a crappy first draft in a month) just because I can. Because there’s room in my head to play. In my lovely lovely room.

Maureen

Watching from outside my office

 

Rocky Mountain Close-Ups

During a recent trip to the Rockies I played with our new camera with an amazing zoom lens. Mountain peaks shrouded in clouds, close ups of rock faces that became studies of texture, fresh snow on a glacier. Stories lurk on those mountain peaks.

Maureen

Pyramid Mountain

Fresh snow on a glacier



Along the Icefield Parkway

I can’t be a writer because I can’t spell

I met a boy at a writing event. He was in grade six. He told me, “My teacher said I can’t be a writer because I can’t spell.”

I was so angry. We talked about writing and creativity, and about how spelling isn’t the critical part of writing. What I wish I’d also done was pull out one of my books, asked him his name, signed it for him, and added:

Maureen Bush Grade 9 English Report Card: Good writer, poor speller.

Don’t let anyone else define who you are.

All my love and faith in you,

Maureen Bush

Smoky night moon

The Sweet Spot of Summer

There’s a sweet spot in the summer for me, when the heat backs off and my lungs recover from really, really hating that. When we get just a hint of cool fall winds, and my garden is a jungly green.

And it’s here today – that perfect late summer moment.

I can feel the anticipation of heading back to school, even though I haven’t for many, many years and my own daughters do their own back-to-school shopping now.

There’s a feeling of plenty, as beets grow and apples ripen.

And a softness in the air – that not-very-Calgary feeling that is somehow totally Calgary, stirred by a touch of mountain air.

It’s late summer at the lake, wistful and slow, a pause before the energy of fall.

Actually being at a lake, in a canoe, with a loon calling, would make it perfect.

For now, I close my eyes and I’m there.

Maureen

Oh My Exploding Head

I’m reading Wired for Story by Lisa Cron. It’s forcing me to think about story and writing in a new way. Perhaps other writers know these things. For me, this book is bringing clarity to confusion.

Wired for Story focuses on what neuroscience tells us about what happens when we read, how we fall into story and learn from the experience, and how we can tap into that when we write. It’s all about story.

I knew that. I really knew that. It’s the specifics that are making me feel like my head is going to explode. I feel as if everything I’ve been doing is wrong. It isn’t – I know that when I dive into editing using these ideas I’ll find most/all/some of the elements are in place. They’ll need tweaking, threads that need to be clarified and pulled to the surface.

I suspect the biggest barrier is right now, as ideas shift in my head. They feel too big to fit. ­I’m pushing myself, working through each chapter, taking notes, planning edits, taking breaks when my head feels too full. And telling myself I will be able to do this. I think I can. I think I can.

Maureen

Add Crows and Stir

I’ve hired an editing coach. I’m learning to look at story in a totally new way. I’ve worked with editors at publishing houses, but it’s never been this deep or this thorough.

I usually look at story from the big picture – top down – and work on the details to fit that big picture.

This kind of detailed edit looks at story from the bottom up. We’re examining how word choice and phrases and sentences support story, making it clearer, stronger, and more vivid. We’re finding threads that can be strengthened, just a little, so they shine, vibrating right through the story.

I’ve actually read a book on editing, and put a second on hold. This is a huge change for me. As a child, I didn’t bother learning the rules of grammar because my natural language skills were good enough to complete assignments, without knowing the rules. I’ve always hated immersion in the minutia of editing, bored by the persnickety details of punctuation. But when it’s in the service of story – well, that’s a different thing altogether. I’m finally getting that.

And so – to crows. The editing coaching is rubbing off on new writing. I blasted out a very rough chapter early one morning. Later, walking, I was greeted by a crow, and remembered I need crows in that chapter. I made a note: Add Crows. Now I know why and how, and what that will do to the chapter. Thanks, CL.

Maureen